


Spectral Noose

by Lycanthrope



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2017-04-08
Packaged: 2018-10-16 12:13:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10571079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lycanthrope/pseuds/Lycanthrope
Summary: A trip into the depths of Knockturn ally.A story written for the Slash and Burn Podcast





	

I will never understand why the cobblestones on Knockturn alley are always damp. Every other street in the whole of London can be in the midst of a drought but these cobbles will always sound wet underfoot. 

“Pansy. Are you sure it’s this way?” Hermione asks, looking back and over her shoulder down the dark, misty, street. 

I sigh because her voice ruins the inherent atmosphere of this place, which I openly admit I enjoy. “It may be creepy but it’s not dangerous. Will you calm down?” 

She shoots me a scathing look and grinds her teeth together. “I’m not scared.” She says pointedly and I’m sure the look on my face betrays that I don’t believe her. “I’m concerned that we might be lost.” 

“We’re not.” I inform her. “It winds but it’s one, long street. We can’t be lost.” 

“Oh.” She says clutching at her hands and looking around at the damp red brick walls. “I didn’t actually know that.” 

“You always sound so confused whenever you admit that.” I comment turning a corner and before she can answer our destination looms ahead of us. 

Madame Mim’s is a small shop front in the gloomy alley. If it weren't the only window lit, it would be easy to dismiss and walk straight past. However for those who know and are brave enough to ask, Madame Mim’s is a specialist in experience. Anything which can be dreamt up can be catered for. “Here we are.” 

Hermione raises an eyebrow at the sight of the small shop front, the windows covered by a thin layer of mold and a single candle burnt so low in the window that it flickers dangerously, threatening to go out at any moment. “You take me to the nicest of places.” She deadpans and pushes the door open. 

The store itself isn’t too much better, the ceiling just a little too low for comfort the mold from the window can be seen in various corners, the smell permeating the air. The clerk at the desk lifts an unimpressed eye from the open book on his lap then quickly returns it. 

Hermione raises both eyebrows at the display and I wave her off. This is all by design, to scare off anyone who didn’t know what they were walking into. With a confident stride I step up to the counter and simply state. “We have a reservation.” 

“Name?” The clerk asks without looking up. 

I clear my throat, really expecting the act to drop once I had spoken those words. “Parkinson.” 

He nods, utterly unimpressed and without looking, places two strips of parchment down onto the crooked old desk. “Read and sign the disclaimer.” 

I don’t pause to read the words, the document had already been sent through, so I sign quickly. Left tapping the countertop with the tips of my fingers while Hermione takes her sweet time to read over the three or four lines of text upon the surface. For just a moment I think she might refuse when she looks once more around our surroundings. She rolls her eyes however and takes the quill from my grasp. 

As soon as the nib of the quill leaves the parchment the clerk slams his book shut with such force that even I jump at the unexpected noise. “Welcome to Madame Mim’s emporium.” He says sweetly. turning on so much charm as though flicking a switch. “We do hope you enjoy your stay, your room has been prepared if you’d like to come this way.” 

Hermione and I share a look but follow behind him silently. He uses his wand against the far wall. Pulling out a section of wall, which swings out to show a concealed entrance. With a brisk stride he ushers us through the portal and into a long hallway. 

On this side of the concealed door, the decor changes from dirty and seedy to such a state of class that the transition is almost jarring. Expensive and intricate tapestries adorn the walls. The thick plush red carpeting underfoot and the hanging torches all add up to a much more welcoming atmosphere. 

We pass by room after room in the seemingly never ending hallway. One ornate oak door after another. All with experiences behind them should you be inclined to ask for them. 

“Here we are.” The clerk says. “Everything should be to your satisfaction.” He leans forward unlocking the door, pushing it wide open for us and handing me the key. “Should you require anything else all you need to do is ask.” 

“Thank you.” Hermione says looking a little shocked in the quick changing of events but enters the room regardless. 

I nod politely and follow in after her. the heavy wooden door closing tightly behind, plunging the room into utter darkness. 

“Well this isn’t ominous at all.” Hermine comments into the inky blackness. 

I chuckle flicking my wrist and uttering a spell, sparking the dozen or so candles I had asked for along the walls into life and giving the room a murky glow. Probably adding more to the ominous feeling rather than relieving it. 

I push at the small of her back to encourage her away from the entrance and inspect her surroundings. The limited light from the few candles around the edge of the room is mostly soaked up by the bare stone walls but does illuminate the place just enough to see the only piece of furniture within it. 

Her eyes are first drawn towards the thin wooden ladder in the far corner and then lead up the rungs to a large platform to where I assume there is an oversized bed. 

“That’s higher than I expected.” She comments trying to hide the waver in her voice. 

I find myself smiling a little at it. Holding the profile of her face in my sights, enjoying the look of fear a little more than I’m willing to admit. “It needs to be.” I say. “This is probably one of the only situations where higher is, in fact, safer.” The words do nothing but make her gulp in fear. “Second thoughts?” 

“And third and fourth.” She admits but still raises her hands to the top button of her blouse to begin undoing it. “Let's just get this over with.” 

I reach out to grasp her shoulders and spin her on the spot. “You can change your mind.” I offer. 

“We’ve come this far.” She says trying to seem flippant over the whole scenario. “So I can get through this.” She continues her jaw settling into a determined line and continues to undress herself. 

My hands cover hers, so they can resume popping open the remaining two buttons and pushing the garment from her shoulders. “Stop being so tense.” I say. 

“That’s so easy for you to say.” She grumbles. 

My eyes catch hers and I can feel my mood shift, just slightly but enough for my voice to hold command within it. “That wasn’t a request.” 

She sighs quietly but complies. forcing her shoulders to relax and the presence of my teeth and lips against her neck seem only to help calm her. I’m quick to remove her black skirt, lowering the zip and letting it pool at her feet. My lips pull just far enough away from her skin so I can let a raspy whisper cascade over it. “Now you have to climb.” 

“Are you not getting undressed?” She asks me and it takes only a few heartbeats of my silence for her to understand she isn’t getting an answer. She toes off her shoes and turns with no small amount of apprehension towards the small ladder. 

I watch for a moment, pausing to remove my shoes and socks and see her take the first few rungs of the ladder on her own, in nothing but her underwear, before following. The wood of the ladder is surprisingly smooth against my palms as I slowly clamber up it, the darkness becoming more suffocating with every step upwards. 

At the top of the platform, as I had expected, we come to rest on a mattress, made longer in every direction to give us enough room to move around in any way we desire, without unintentionally falling from the edge, considering there are no rails to guard the edges. 

She does try to direct herself towards the far wall. Away from the edge at it is but I stop her with a hand against her hip. “This way.” I command, directing her back. 

I hear her try to cover up a groan but to her credit she does as requested, keeping down low on her hands and knees. Positioning herself where I want her. 

“Kneel up.” I command and I could swear that she was going to protest. I’m sure she has to bite her tongue before pushing up so she is sat on her haunches. I smile at the control I have, sitting down behind her, also kneeling on my legs, taking each of her hands in turn and pulling them to rest at the small of her back. With a small muttered spell, rope springs out of my wand to bind her wrists together. My wand is then returned to its holster at my waist. “Comfortable?” I ask. 

She lets out a small laugh that is half amusement at my question and half apprehension over the position I’ve pulled her into. “Getting there.” 

“Always so brave.” I comment and don’t let her dwell on it too long as I press a hand into her breastbone, holding her against my chest as I pitch us both forward, reaching blindly out where the darkness conceals the space right in front of Hermione's face. She gasps, not having the forethought to stifle it but if it’s over the sight of the hardwood floor far below us or the black, silky smooth rope I pull back from the inky darkness I cannot be sure. 

Her breathing speeds up into shallow short bursts as the rope runs between my fingers, pulling us both back to a slightly less precarious position. The fear of the high bed, and hard floor is gone but immediately replaced by the sight of a hangman's noose that now rests loosely in my fingertips. I give her only two heartbeats to protest before releasing her to pull the rope over her head and tighten it around her throat. 

“Pansy.” She says, and I can hear the fear laced through such a simple word. 

In response I touch her stomach and stroke at her arm. Drawing her attention away from the weight that is tight against her neck. “It’s okay.” I say in a low voice. “I’m right here.” It shouldn’t, but these words comfort her. “That’s better.” I tell her letting my hand drop down and push into her underwear, pressing against the small bundle of nerves I find there. Providing a proper distraction to the whole situation. I spend the next few minutes shushing her and calming her fears until her hips begin to move in the rhythm against my wandering fingers. It takes far longer than usual but the delay had been expected. 

My free and wraps around her middle, so she doesn't accidentally fall off the edge and that itself seems to be enough for Hermione to lose herself to her own beat. The way she begins to moan is enough evidence of that. The position and the way that her body slides along my front is enough to mount my own arousal as we twist and moan in the age old rhythm. 

It's not long after that, before I feel her back arch against me and the muscles along her things begin to shudder. Lost in the trawls of her own oblivion, lost to everything but the ecstasy. That’s when I chose to push. 

My strike is quick and hard against the space between her shoulder blades and she tumbles off the side of the platform with a high pitched squeal, which is only cut short as the rope pulls taught and I swear I hear her neck snap. 

I lean back on my haunches hands spread out behind me to keep me from toppling over onto the mattress. The sounds followed by deathly silence clenching my own muscles and in a few short seconds sweet release has given way to the relaxation. I twist my head, feel the muscles in my own neck pop just enough for me to both hear and feel it and lean forward to rest my hands on the edge of the mattress and look down as Hermione’s lifeless body swings two and fro several feet below. 

My smile is both satisfied and slow to form as I crawl back, away from the edge, stretching out the muscles in my upper arms and slowly begin to descend down the ladder. My eyes drawn to the corpse as my feet rest on each rung. 

The fascination does not disappear as my feet touch the solid hardwood floor. My gaze drawn up and towards the body just as my hands are. Gliding over her stomach, I shouldn’t be but I'm surprised that it is still warm. “Well that is something.” I find myself saying to the open air. 

I only permit myself a few more moments to gaze upon the corpse before finding the folded blanket, fanning it out to rest under the body as it pendulums. I take a few moment to pull out all of the creases and step back to admire my handy work. 

The other end of the rope is secured close by and I am able to undo it and lurch forward. I hadn’t expected the weight on the other end and it pitches me forward a full step before I am able to get a proper footing under me. After a breath I am able to let the rope go, sliding between my hands for a couple of feet, not having to worry about rope burn due to its silky texture. 

Once Hermione's body is lowered enough so her knees are bent against the blanket the weight has lessened enough for me to hold on with a single arm wrapped around the cord. With my other arm I am able to reach out and wrap it around the lifeless body, now that it is quickly beginning to cool as I gently lower it down to the floor. 

Drawing my wand I cut the bonds at her wrists and pull her arms around to her front and cradle the body in my lap. Lovingly wrapping a blanket around it and making sure the noose is still tight around her throat before saying gently. “You can come back now.” 

Her body glows, for a long second and the rope around her neck crackles with ancient magics, knitting the broken bones around her neck back together. 

What was lifeless and limp in my arms suddenly springs to life with a strangled gasp and I quickly pull the noose free. Holding her loosely as she descends into a fit of coughs, instinctively trying to fill her lungs just a little too quickly and making them burn. 

It takes a few minutes of deep chesty coughing before her tear filled eyes raise up to meet mine, her body shaking and weak. However she does manage a small smile. “That had better be out of your system now.”

**Author's Note:**

> I am intrested to see what might be behind some of those doors. Honestly it could be anything. If you have any suggestions or better yet further stories for this please let me know. I would love to add to this work.


End file.
